


how much do you hate?

by ScreechTheMighty



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Horror, Supernatural Elements, Swearing, Virtual Reality, archive warnings may be updated also, no beta reader we die like men, probably won't be done in time for halloween but oh well, shadowfall event 2019, tags to be updated as fic progresses, there will be some background miraith but it won't be the main focus so i'm not gonna tag it, unless I change my mind mid-fic and this turns into another miraith fic by me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2020-12-21 16:18:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21077777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScreechTheMighty/pseuds/ScreechTheMighty
Summary: it is not enough.there's someone else in the game.





	1. null

**Author's Note:**

> The Halloween event is pretty great, y'all. As a note, this one is NOT a part of my usual Respawn Cinematic Universe Fic Timeline, and will be more canon-accurate to Apex Legends. But I'll also be using some of my other headcanons to fill in the gaps, because no one can stop me.

It had been a while since he’d seen King’s Canyon.

He didn’t remember it looking like _this._

“This is _awesome_,” Octane said excitedly.

Elliott didn’t often agree with Octane, but he was definitely right. This _was_ pretty dope. He was glad he’d managed to get into the play testing for this new game mode. It had been pretty cutthroat getting in—and by that he meant that he may have lied to a few people about when the signup was and paid some poor newbie a good chunk of money for his spot in line. Not _literally_ cutthroat. That would come later.

But even then, not really, because this new game was in a simulator. It was the same kind of technology that they’d used to train soldiers during the wars. Except they were using it to effectively play Human versus Zombies for the entertainment of others.

Needless to say, it was both exciting and terrifying.

“So, if this machine crashes, it’s not gonna like…fry our brains, is it?” Elliott asked. “That’s not how it works, right?”

“There are safeguards in place to prevent brain damage,” said Crypto, who suddenly seemed to be standing _very_ close to Elliott without warning. “You’ll probably just get a headache.”

“_Okay_, good to know.” Elliott backed away from the new guy. “You know I could hear you just find from like, over there. The other side of the drop ship. Not right next to me.”

Crypto smirked. It reminded Elliott _far_ too much of Miles, even though he was pretty sure Crypto was younger than him. “_Anyways_,” Elliott said loudly. He took another step away. “When are we dropping?”

_“Prepare for drop_,” said a very generic-sounding computer voice.

“Okay, then. That answers that.” Elliott got into the drop area, as far away from Crypto as he could. “Hope that guy won’t be our announcer for the actual matches. Not much of a hype man.”

No one paid attention to his rambling; they were either actively ignoring him or staring down at the nighttime recreation of King’s Canyon, lit up in various places with a lot of neon and other strange lights. It was _spooky_. Not exactly terrifying, but he supposed that was what they were for. Assuming the whole program worked.

_Guess we’ll find out_.

“_Prepare for jump in five…four…_”

Elliott took a deep breath and snapped his goggles into place out of habit.

“_…three…two…one_…”

He jumped.

It was, admittedly, terrifying to make the jump at night. Even with the lights keeping the arena from being _completely_ dark, it was still hard to see some of the landmarks. But he relied on muscle memory of the many, many matches he’d played in this place, made a beeline for swamps, and threw in a flip for good measure. No one was there to see it, but it kind of helped with the gripping terror.

Until he hit the ground, anyway. That was when it hit him how very, terrifyingly alone he was.

He’d known going in that it would be solos up until the final ten players. He was prepared for that. Or that’s what he’d _thought_, until he slipped into one of the houses in the swamp and found it full of candles. Those were the most ominous candles he’d ever damn seen in his life, and he had to face them alone. He couldn’t even rely on Wraith or Pathfinder meeting him in the final ten, at least not for this match. The two of them had opted out of this round of play testing.

_Get it together, Mirage. You can do this. You did okay during the last solos event._

Elliott took a deep breath and grabbed a gun.

Once the initial surge of terror faded and he found a level two body shield, Elliott had to admit: the map was pretty cool. It felt just like King’s Canyon had, before they were forced to abandon it due to all the wild animals running around. The candles up in the tree branches were kind of neat, as was the sight of the Leviathans glowing off in the distance. Elliott was starting to appreciate the map for what it was.

Then a zombie popped out of the supply bin he opened.

“**_Fuckingshit - !_**”

Elliott jumped back and put a few shots into the thing. It exploded into a puff of smoke, leaving behind a level one standard stock he didn’t need and two shield cells.

Well. Thank God no one was around to see _that._ “_Hah._ Very funny,” Elliott muttered as he picked up the cells. “Funny joke. Fuck you, programmers…”

_“Ring closing in one minute,”_ chimed in the generic announcer voice.

_Ah, fuck._ Better get a move on.

There were a few places where the map glitched away, fading slightly to reveal the red skeleton underneath, but he pinged the with some special markers he’d been given, as instructed, and kept going. That was a problem for some poor programmer to fix, not him. His first encounter with another legend ended in his favor. The body disappeared upon death, leaving behind only a pile of their supplies. Elliott knew it was because this was a program, but it certainly added to the whole spooky aesthetic, having people just vanish like ghosts.

_Still, I guess it’s less bad than how it is in real life…_

A faint, terrifying growling sound made him take that thought back pretty quickly.

On instinct, Elliott sent out a decoy, then ducked behind cover. He peered out just in time to see his decoy get torn into by some kind of twitching…shadow…_thing_. He’d known that these were his primary enemy for the match, but seeing what they actually looked like?

_Cool! Cool. Nothing terrifying about that at **all**._

Elliott shot at the shadow. The good news was, it went down pretty quickly. The _bad _news was that within a minute of that kill, that exact same monster shadow was suddenly _ascending from the sky_ and coming right for him.

It was right then that he remembered something from the rules: any killed shadows were given the location of their killer so they could have a shot at revenge.

_Ah. Fuck._

He was able to take it out again, barely, and booked it.

He didn’t stop running until he was out of breath. He hadn’t even known he could _get_ out of breath in these things, but apparently he could. He wasn’t sure where he was anymore, having gotten turned around in the dark, but at least the guy he killed hadn’t found him. Miraculously. Somehow.

“Okay. Okay. This is harder than I thought it was going to be. Okay.”

He changed tactics from there: stay out of sight, and absolutely no killing. Let the others tear each other apart. He wasn’t going to put a vengeance target on his back unless he absolutely had to. Fortunately, sneaking was his specialty, and with a few well-timed decoys, he was able to evade the worst of it.

_“We have reached the final ten. Drop ship inbound._

Okay. Good. At least he had some team mates now. The drop ship’s location was pinged, and the coms came to life. “What’s everyone’s kill count?” said Octane almost immediately. “I’m on eight.”

“Good for you!” Elliott hissed. “Does anyone have a clear shot on drop ship?”

“Got eyes in the sky,” replied Crypto. He sounded disturbingly calm for all the fucked up shit that was going on in this map. “No one’s here yet, but the ring’s about to get a lot smaller. It will be hard to evade them for long.”

“_Great._” Elliott started jogging again. “Did anyone else notice the zombies? Because there are _zombies_ in the loot crates…”

There was the faint, now-spooky siren that indicated that the ring was about to close. Elliott expected to hear that same generic announcer voice telling them the ring was closing. Instead, he heard a voice that didn’t come from the loudspeaker. It didn’t even come from his headset. It sounded like it came from directly behind him, right into his ear.

“**_RUN._**”

Elliott swore he felt his heart stop.

Next thing he remembered, he wasn’t just _running_. He was a good distance away from where he’d started, legs pumping, heart racing. He had the distant thought that maybe he should drop a ping to let someone know that there was some kind of glitch in the program, but he could hear more of those shadows coming after him. He dropped two decoys as quickly as his cooldown would allow. His lungs were burning and his legs ached, but he kept going, because he was _pretty sure_ that he didn’t get any kind of respawn now. He didn’t want to find out what dying felt like in this thing.

“Coming in from the east, anyone want to_ help…?!_”

Elliott heard the whirring of a drone overhead. “Initiating EMP,” said Crypto, still sounding irritatingly calm. Elliott took back any grumpy thoughts he had about the man when he heard the whining of the EMP winding up, followed by the electric discharge. When Elliott risked glancing over his shoulder, most of the shadows had dropped.

“Have I ever told you you’re pretty cool for being so annoying?” Elliott said.

“You’re welcome,” Crypto replied dryly. “The ship is almost here. I’m withdrawing my drone. You may want to move.”

“_I **am** moving!_”

He could see the ship coming down and several of the others making a break for the it. One person—someone that Elliott didn’t recognize—was suddenly swarmed by several of the shadows. Like ants swarming a dropped piece of candy.

_Oh, fuck, oh, **shit**, oh, **no**_…

The urge to panic crawled up his throat and nearly made him activate his ultimate. But he kept it together just long enough to get close. _Then_ he cloaked.

_Fuck, fuck, please, **shit**_…

Luck was on his side. Somehow, despite the panic rushing through his body, he was able to make the last leap onto the drop ship.

“_Hah!_” Mirage turned to face the crowd of shadows swarming under the drop ship, snarling impotently. “Suck on _that,_ you - !”

The entire world glitched before he could think of a good insult.

Literally, _glitched,_ going distorted and freezing, his own voice skipping as he tried to finish the thought. The shadows started vanishing, save for one that lingered, its eyes locked directly onto Elliott’s as he tried to make sense of what was happening.

Then the screen went black, save for a few lines in the corner of his vision.

_APL SIMPOD OS V10.11B_

_ROOT: $ SYSTEM ERROR REBOOT?_

Oh. Right. He was in a computer simulation. He’d almost forgotten due to all the panic.

The system did not reboot; instead, the hatch opened up, revealing the testing room he’d walked into what seemed like hours ago.

_And_ almost immediately, just as Crypto mentioned, Elliott felt a headache coming on.

“_Shit_,” he said, pressing his hands to his eyes. “_Okay._ That’s a bug, not a feature, right?”

“The crash has been noted and will be addressed in future updates,” said a bored-looking assistant. She was too busy writing something down to look at Elliott. “Please see a doctor if the headache persists beyond an hour. The compensation will be deposited into your account within 24 hours.”

Elliott staggered out of his simulator pod. A few people looked shaken; others looked like they’d been having the time of their lives. Elliott wasn’t sure which category he was in just yet. It was fun, sure, but fun in a way that bordered on just _too_ intense. Like a haunted house where the makeup was a bit _too_ real and the jumpscares a little _too_ effective.

“What did you think?” Octane asked him as they got onto the elevator.

“I think…”

Elliott, for a second, thought about that last shadow staring back at him. He also thought about how cool King’s Canyon had looked. The haunted house that was just a bit too haunted.

“I think,” Elliott said finally, “that the Halloween events are gonna be something.”

He’d have to talk Wraith and Pathfinder into doing one of the playtesting rounds. Some advance strategic discussion couldn’t hurt. And he wanted to see if they were just as spooked as he was. Because if Wraith walked away from it even a _little _bit rattled?

That would be the _worst_ possible sign.


	2. quadrant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm technically not posting this on Halloween so happy All Saints Day I guess. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Wraith started second-guessing the decision the second the pod started closing.

She couldn’t say _why_; only that something about being trapped in that space was starting to set her off. She closed her eyes, forced herself to breathe, and told herself that in a few seconds, she wouldn’t be able to tell that she was trapped. That everything would be fine.

“Look! I can see the Pit from here!” called Pathfinder.

Wraith opened her eyes.

Elliott hadn’t been kidding. It really did look like King’s Canyon, as it was before Octavio went and funded that addition near the Thunderdome and before the labs were unearthed. The lack of labs sent a pang of disappointment through her. Yes, she knew that a reconstruction of King’s Canyon wouldn’t have the information she had been looking for, but that didn’t stop her from wishing she could look. Maybe even being in the space would’ve jog her memory.

“This is very exciting,” Pathfinder added. “It is good to be back in this arena, don’t you think?”

“It is a nice change of pace,” Wraith agreed. The new map had its perks, but she was still getting used to it. Being in King’s Canyon almost felt like home—strange as that might sound to someone not in the games. “Suppose I see you down there?”

“I will see you down there, friend!” Pathfinder gave her a thumbs up as he took his place on the drop ship. “Try not to die!”

They didn’t have any kind of ceasefire pact, probably because they weren’t taking this very seriously. When they played for real, maybe, but not now. Right now, this was…well, it wasn’t even a game. It was a _test_ of the game. She could live with him shooting her in something like that.

The morbid part of her almost hoped he would. Elliott had never become one of the shadows—an integral part of the game, as she understood. It might be good if one of them took that plunge, just to get an idea of what it was like. It could help them understand how to beat them.

The rest of her wasn’t keen to find out what dying felt like in a simulation. So, she decided to stay alive as long as possible. If she turned into a shadow, she turned into a shadow.

“_Ready for drop_,” said the announcer voice.

Elliott was right: the voice really was generic, not even the familiar female-sounding voice that accompanied them from arena to arena. _Guess they haven’t fixed that yet_, Wraith thought as she jumped.

She’d seen this place at night before, in some dreams that had never come to pass. It hadn’t looked anything like this: lit artistically in places due to liberal applications of glowing paint and candles, dark otherwise, stars she didn’t recognize hanging static overhead. The moon was also bigger than she recalled from those dreams, impossibly large. That, for some reason, unnerved her more than the other attempts at being creepy or otherworldly.

She tried to land close to where the action likely would be without getting in the thick of it—in this case, the Slum Lakes. She was free to keep an ear on things while looting the buildings in relative peace.

The longer things were quiet, though, the more Wraith started to worry. Were the voices being quiet because there was no one there, or were the voices being quiet because they didn’t work in here? She had some idea of how her abilities worked, having whispered advice to herself more than once. This was a computer program—not reality. Could they see her in there?

Was she more alone than she’d realized?

Wraith shook the thought off. She’d find out one way or another. This was just a play testing round in a computer simulation. Worst case scenario, she’d lose this round, with no real ramifications whatsoever.

_Breathe, Wraith._

The ring was going to close soon. Wraith started jogging towards the Pit, hoping to find either untouched loot bins or any good scraps left over.

Unfortunately, she found neither. There wasn’t much left, and what little there was didn’t help her. Her search was undermined by a persistent low roaring, like the rushing of wind through a canyon. She wasn’t sure where it was coming from…until she looked down.

The Pit was aptly named, as it was built over a deep tunnel going straight down to who-knew-where. There was still a tunnel going straight down, but instead of stone and dirt walls there was a swirling red vortex, stretching down seemingly forever. The roaring grew louder as she stared down it, dizzy and unnerved, but unable to look away. It seemed to drown out everything.

Until…

“_Beautiful, isn’t it?_”

Wraith whirled around, Prowler raised, her body shaking. The voice had been deep, male, unfamiliar, and speaking _right in her ear._ But there was no one there. Her cheek was still warm from their hot breath, but there was _no one._

_run._

That voice she knew; that voice she _trusted,_ and it actually sounded afraid. That never happened. The voices were unflappable, calm, providing their advice from their timeline without getting emotional. But this one sounded…afraid.

_get out of there, **run.**_

Wraith took off.

She was out of the Pit and into the ring within a few seconds. When she stopped to catch her breath, the voices came back: _don’t shoot._

She was confused until she looked up and saw someone: a newcomer, from the look of it, frozen behind a supply bin, staring at her with panic in his eyes. Wraith knew that the free-for-all wasn’t over, and that he was technically an enemy. But he hadn’t shot first.

They’d all be in the same boat soon. No need to jump the gun, not when the voices were saying she was safe.

“Seen any of those shadows?” she whispered. The newcomer shook his head. “That’s good. I won’t shoot you if you don’t shoot me?”

“That’s fair,” whispered back the newbie.

They stayed close together. Wraith didn’t bother to get a name, because it didn’t matter. She’d probably never see him again after this, and if he did, it’d be at the other side of a gun. No sense in learning. “Have you heard anything? Any…strange voices?”

“No?” The guy immediately looked nervous. “Do you think there’s something else out here? Other than the shadows?”

“I think it would’ve been in the rules if there were.” The game makers might’ve liked throwing challenges at them, but they were always transparent about what those challenges were. No surprises, not even on Halloween. “I just thought I heard something in the Pit. It could’ve been something on a speaker. They were probably trying to scare me.”

That didn’t explain why the voices had been so insistent she get out, but her new ally didn’t need to know about that. Not when she didn’t have any more indication what was going on.

“At least you actually know King’s Canyon,” said the newbie. “I didn’t join up until World’s End. Any tips for the map?”

“Don’t get crushed by the Leviathans. You’d think that would be common sense, but…”

_on the roof_.

Wraith looked up. There was a shadowy figure standing on the roof, a mass of smoke with red embers shooting through. It was difficult to focus on the creature due to the way it writhed and twitched. But the glowing frowny face on its chest that Wraith immediately recognized.

“…Path?” Wraith said.

Pathfinder waved at her.

Then, he launched himself at her.

Both Wraith and the newcomer opened fire, causing the shadow that was once her friend to go up in smoke. The voices kicked back in immediately: _get out. get out now._ Wraith grabbed the newcomer’s arm and started dragging him away. “Come on. We have to move.”

“_What the fuck?!_”

“Just _run!_”

And they did. They didn’t stop, even when the newcomer’s strength started failing. Wraith could’ve left him, but a deep gut feeling told her not to. A ping on her map let her know that they were down to the last ten, and that the drop ship was nearby.

“Come on,” she said, still dragging the newcomer. “Come on, we’re almost…”

A snarling sound came from somewhere to her left.

_move. **move – **_

Too late.

The creature—not Pathfinder, someone she didn’t recognize—tackled her. Wraith felt claws sink into her side, sending pain running through her body. She scrambled for her gun. _It’s not real. It’s not real. Keep it together, it’s not…_

There was a bang. The creature dissolved into smoke. The newcomer ran to her side. “Can you walk?!”

“I don’t…” Wraith struggled to stand. Her knees felt weak. The pain was more real than she expected. “I think…I don’t know…”

Before she could _try_, the newcomer picked her up, throwing her over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. The surge of panic that ran through her at being manhandled gave way to calm determination when she saw another shadow. She was just able to shoot it with a pistol.

_How’s he going to get us onto the ship if he’s carrying me?_ she thought.

Turned out, it was a non-issue. The second he set foot into the drop zone, they were suddenly on the ship. The newcomer put her down and collapsed to the floor. “_Fuck!_” he said.

_Fuck_ was right. It seemed like they were the only ones on the drop ship. Wraith could hear the pinging of downed team mates outside the ship, again and again. A mantra of defeat as they were overwhelmed by the shadows. She half-expected them to start jumping into the ship.

That never happened. The ship took off about a minute later, with just her and the newbie on board.

_You are the match champions._

The ship faded from view not long after that, turning the world black. Some green text appeared. _Program shutting down. Please stand by._

Then the text faded. Then the inside of the machinery faded in. The door to the pod opened; everyone else staggered out of their pods (or, in Pathfinder’s case, unplugged themselves from the machinery). Pathfinder trotted over with a frowny face on his chest. “I hope I didn’t frighten you too badly, friend!” he said.

“No, it’s…” Wraith shook her head. “You were just playing the game, I know.” None of it was real. Even the pain she had felt from the attacks had faded. It was all just a game and she could live with that.

All except one detail: the voice that had spoken to her in the pit. That didn’t feel like a game.

That felt _real._

Wraith caught sight of the newbie leaning against his pod, breathing slowly. She waved at him; he waved back, weakly.

Wraith doubted she’d see him again in this game, if the ashen look on his face was anything to go by.

Part of her wasn’t sure she blamed him for that.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr at screechthemighty for general blogging and at respawncinematicuniverse for Apex/Titanfall fic/lore/the occasional meme. Fic title and chapter tirles are a reference to Marble Hornets, specifically the totheark channel for the chapter titles and the video "Extraction" for the fic title.


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